


The Pathmaker

by RadScavver



Series: The Sole Survivor [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Slight racial slur towards Super Mutants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadScavver/pseuds/RadScavver
Summary: A stop Home, then a trip towards the end.





	The Pathmaker

She glances around, taking in the community that’s built up in Sanctuary Hills once again. Various settlers wave as she passes, always happy to see her when she stops by, and she nods in response. A few she recognizes as newcomers; she considers extending the trade routes.

“Well, I’ll be damned! It’s been a fair while since your mug’s been seen ‘round here.”

Snorting, she calls, “Afternoon, Cait. How’ve you been enjoying the easy life?”

“Don’t gimme tha’ shite. There hasn’t been a damn thing t’ do in weeks!”

“Oh, calm down. I’m going to be heading off to pick up Strong after this. Do you want to tag along?”

“I’m not palling around with the greenskin.”

“”I’ll drop you off to visit Curie.”

“...Fine. Don’t you say a damn word.”

“I won’t.”

“An’ get that’ smug look offa your face!”

She grins wide, knowing no one can see a damn thing past her helmet.

 

* * *

 

The Glowing Sea is...oddly quiet. Even the occasional storm that brews overhead, before rolling off over the Commonwealth, seems muffled by the sheer haze of radiation. It makes her paranoid. All the more wary of vicious predators lurking in the nuclear miasma. But not Strong. No, the super mutant is practically tranquil in the Glow. Calm and quiet, observing their surroundings like a contented house cat. While much more helpful than his usual battle lust, it only serves to unnerve her further. The creak of her motorized limbs is barely a comfort.

“Anything of note, Strong?” she calls, wincing at the crackle of her voice in the stifling quiet.

“No threat. Bugs far away,” he grunts. He looks around once more. “Claw sleeping that way.”

“And we will not be going that way.”

“Cave there.”

“....Of fucking course it is…”

She hefts her trusty bat and preps a dose of Psychojet. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s grappling with pissy deathclaws.


End file.
